The Waking World

When I was rocking
With the best of ‘em
I’d puff the cess
And be left
Wrestling just to
Bless with ‘em
Undress your girl
Isabella Rossalini
I’m living well
Richard Hell
This is rap, black
Bossalini
Don’t tell me nothing
About tussling in a ‘Lo goose
Know who been
Looking down on me
Frowning because I’m
No use
My flow loose
It’s fascination
For motivations
On presidential assassinations
It takes a nation, black
It takes some patience
Whatever happened to
Waiting, black
I puff an el
In the Sofitel
And I’m making raps
And caking stacks
While they toting the steel
Elysian Fields
Another name for that
Third Ward appeal
Stealing from the breadline
Won’t ever make you a thief
When I’m making the headlines
I’m just deadlining the beats
When you’re young one
Your lungs expand
Brand names is hunger pangs
And us love the slang
Yeah, man we love the slang
He holding heat
Standing outside of the
Dakota watch it
While Holden Caulfield
Just telling him
When to let the Glock spit
This bottle rocket rap
Balaclava stocking cap
Thriller spit the feeling is right
Finna go knock it back
I’m at the bar alone
Sipping a Fin du Monde
Or we tripping
A thousand miles from home
Telling me it’s a
Terrordome
Sutter Home magnum bottle
Twentieth century lost
And unpaused
When the tape plays
I slang with models
Don’t get it twisted
I spit it
For when the people cry
People die
Grandwizzard Theodore
Could reach the sky
I-N-I rapid lights
Flashing inside the Texas sky
Rest of my life
Paying the price
Right, I’m twenty-five
Mark Chapman
Done made it happen
But, anyways
Any world that you walk on to
Could’ve had any haze
When you’re young then
Your lungs expand
Brand names is hunger pangs
And you love the slang
Lay colors over me
You feel the waking world
Move fading, fading, far away
Waiting on a heartbeat
You feel forsaken arms
Move to your body, break away
And if they dressed in black
I get to battle my demons
And puff the stress and rap
Until I get the session back
I never had that Double Happiness
That you’ll be taking back
Shaking from the heartache
And everything that we making, black
So there’s no sonograms
And there’s no plasticine dreams
And no Ono Band
I’m on the dolo
Puffing trees all alone again
All on the phone
Crying everything’s just a dream
And so I just want to be
Home again
Lay colors over me
You feel the waking world
Move fading, fading, far away
Waiting on a heartbeat
You feel forsaken arms
Move to your body, break away